DOWN TREE LINED BOULEVARDS TO SACCHARINE:

Woman on the radio says, “Messy-Head”, for a night drive
down tree-lined boulevards to saccharine M.O.R. –
another bleating piano song to dull the senses. Thrill my eyes on
Heavy Eastern Block architecture, squat with intent. In a barber’s
window a shrine, a footballing legend in Black & White as the radio
dribbles I try to float off the back seat of this Mercedes,
to keep the stink of it off my clothes – don’t intend to spend all
weekend smelling like a puke-blood-sweat-stain – the seat belt
smells of rancid butter.

Listing to ‘Baton’ from ‘Bonita‘

(K)